I look up and realize I’m just about at my destination.
Through the fog, I can barely make out the red door to Henry’s house, but the lawn is wide and green, and I know that behind it is the cliff to the water, a straight drop.
Everything is going to be okay, I think, as I place the letter in Henry’s mailbox. I nestle it between other envelopes tenderly, like I’m tucking it into bed. Everything is going to be great.
Chapter ThirtyRose
The paper in my hand shakes as I practice the speech one final time.
“Thank you all for being here tonight,” I mumble into the mirror. “I am so honored to be here with you raising money for this important cause.”
It sounds false and hollow, even though I really do mean every word. I read it again, trying to infuse more emotion this time.
“Thank you so much for being here,” I say again. “It means the world to me to be with you here tonight.”
Now I sound like a bad actress reciting an acceptance speech for an award I don’t deserve. I put the paper down, close my eyes, and try to stop the nerves that are spreading throughout my body, making my knees unsteady. I can do this, I tell myself. I can do this. Tonight is the big night. I will announce my new private practice, and I will start my next chapter, a better one.
I’ve always detested public speaking, looking out at a crowd and seeing their expectant faces slowly grow bored. I imagine what Iwould say to a client of mine: “No one is scrutinizing you that closely. We overestimate other people’s imagined critiques of us and underestimate their positive thoughts.”
It doesn’t help.
A knock on my bedroom door startles me. I still need to shower and get ready, but my dad and sister asked if they could come over beforehand. “The shower in Josie’s guesthouse has terrible water pressure,” my dad said. “There’s mildew,” claimed my sister. James left last week. It was actually nice to see him in the end, and I’m happy he and Lily are on a better path. I just hope his sobriety sticks.
Currently, my dad is using up all the hot water, singing a show tune. He brought over a pressed white linen suit and will no doubt spend the majority of the next two hours before the gala in our one bathroom, perfecting his hair.
“Can I come in?” I hear Elizabeth’s voice through the door. I open it and watch as she enters.
Elizabeth is already dressed, looking beautiful in a tan wrap dress and heels. When she sees me, still unshowered and in jeans, she audibly gasps.
“Rose,” she chides. “Please tell me you’re not wearing that.”
I make a face at her. “Obviously, I’m not wearing jeans tonight. I’m just waiting to get into the shower.”
“Thank God,” says Elizabeth, overdramatic as usual. She stands in the doorway, still scrutinizing me. “You really do need a tan.”
“Is this what you came in here to discuss?” I ask, trying to suppress my growing annoyance.
Elizabeth shakes her head. “I came in here to talk,” she says, but she eyes my disappointing appearance again like she still finds it distracting. “I wanted to hear how you were feeling before the big speech.”
This is not what I expected. The last time I can remember Elizabeth looking for any sort of heart-to-heart was at my engagement party. It was at our family’s home, just James’s parents, Elizabeth, my dad, and a few close friends. Everyone was disappointed we hadn’t opted for a larger affair, but I could barely stomach that. Maybe, I knew somewhere that we were already doomed and didn’t want an audience. I was getting ready in the bathroom, putting on our mother’s pearl earrings. Elizabeth came in to help me fix the clasp.
“Is this what you really want?” Elizabeth asked with her cold hands on my ear. It was the first time someone had asked the question so blatantly, and at first, I didn’t know how to respond.
“I think so,” I said, which was true at the time. I wanted to stop thinking of the past. I wanted to take a step forward in my life, even if it was the wrong one. At least it would solidify my life in a direction. Besides, Lily was already on the way. Even though I wasn’t showing yet, I could feel her there, tossing and turning, my precious little secret.
“Okay,” is all Elizabeth said. “Then let’s fix your hair. It looks flat.”
That was the closest since childhood we had come to a sisterly moment, and of course, it ended in an insult. I didn’t call it off that day, or even that week, but ten days later, we were no longer engaged and I felt a sort of breathtaking relief.
“I’m nervous,” I admit to her now. “I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”
Elizabeth comes closer, stands behind me in front of Lottie’s antique mirror. The wood is carved into the shapes of seashells. The steam from the shower is seeping into the room, making the mirror fog around the edges.
“You’ll be fine,” she says confidently. “You’ve always been fine.” She twists my hair behind my back in a tender gesture.
I look at our reflection in the mirror and am surprised to see the years on our faces. We look similar to our childhood selves, but the lines of time are unmistakable. Maybe it’s the nerves or the unexpected sentimentality of the moment, but I see my eyes start to fill with water.
“What’s wrong?” asks Elizabeth, turning away from the mirror to look at me directly. She wipes away a tear from my cheek, and the gentleness of the action makes me cry more. “I was always jealous you got our mother’s brown eyes,” she says with a long sigh.
